Harry Potter and the year of the Thestral
by halfblooddemiwizard
Summary: AU GoF, starting summer after POA. Sirius adopts Harry and the pair begin to heal and grow as they sort out their lives. Let's explore what was, what is, and what could be with Harry, Hermione, Sirius, and the gang. Mentorship, Adventure, Family, Romance, Noble House, Honor, and, of course, Magic. No slash. Manipulative Dumbledore. T for language and later romance. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1: A Nighttime Encounter

Disclaimer: JKR is Queen. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be so stressed about paying for my undergrad.

A/N: My first attempt at writing Fanfiction after reading several million words of it. Feel free to be as critical as you like. I can take criticism, in fact, I love it because it makes me better. 😊 AU details and tropes are noted in summary and may change as I keep writing. For now: Restriction of underage magic does not apply to scions of Noble Houses, Statute of Secrecy only applies to situations where Muggles directly witness events inexplicable without magic or where the obliviators are needed.

As this is my first time using this site to publish my work, I'm expecting some technical difficulties. Please bear with me as we begin this journey of what was, what is, and what could be:)

1: A Nighttime Encounter

~\/~

Harry's vision blinked into focus as he awoke, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. The standard white ceiling, haphazardly painted blue walls, and worn furniture of his room at the Dursley's appeared menacingly in the dim light from his enchanted nightlight. He glanced at the alarm clock next to his parent's photo on his nightstand. The display blinked at him, 3:34 AM. Harry was used to waking up periodically in the night due to nightmares and Dudley's torments, but this felt different. He scanned his surroundings, but without his glasses, his vision was useless for anything beyond a 10-foot radius. Something was off, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He shut his eyes and feigned sleep to better listen to his environment. He could still her Vernon's snoring from down the hall, the rasping hackle, ironically resembling the drills he was so fond of selling, penetrating the oppressive silence of nighttime at the Dursley's. That was good, if Vernon awoke he would no doubt find some way to place blame for his poor sleep on Harry or "His kind," despite the plethora of more logical explanations. As far has Harry's hearing could tell, nothing else stirred in the house or sounded out of place.

Vernon's snoring reminded Harry just how closely he had come this year to having a family of his own with Sirius. It amazed Harry how such a simple thing could spark such an emotional reaction in him. Harry imagined that listening to the breathing or snores of someone who loved him, even merely _wanted_ him, would be infinitely better than the guttural sound emanating from the room down the hall.

Harry then reached out with his magic, using a wandless technique he had learned in one of his occlumency books borrowed over the summer. He believed this technique was similar to how Dumbledore always found him when he used his father's cloak. The technique required the wizard to visualize his surroundings, forming a mental picture of their surroundings in greyscale. Then to imagine their magic sweeping over it, and finally, push their magical core into the picture. Analyzing it, studying it, and searching the mental map for any magical residue. If done correctly, Harry would see coloured auras of different magical beings and items against a greyscale mosaic of mundane items. Like most mental magics, it was very intent-based, with no formal incantation or wand movement, unlike _Homenum_ _Revelio,_ which relies as much on incantation and wandwork as intent _._ As Harry channeled his magic into the mental picture, he saw the comforting, familiar red glow of his wand on his nightstand, the inviting blue aura of his enchanted trunk hidden under his bed and out of sight of the Dursleys, and Hedwig's pale yellow form in her cage. Nothing was amiss in his room, yet he couldn't shake the feeling of malaise that only grew as his senses failed to identify the source.

Harry expanded the mental image to include the entire Dursley property. When he did this, he noted a suppressed purple and orange aura hovering outside of his window. He immediately recognized the orange aura as that of a broomstick, however he found the purple harder to place. He guessed that the figure was under some sort of disillusionment or invisibility charm. Keeping his eyes shut as he maintained the mental image, Harry quietly grabbed his glasses and wand from his bedside table, enjoying the warm feeling he always felt when he held his wand. Harry felt his wand thrum slightly in his hand in response to the anticipation building within Harry. His pulse quickened as he thought about his next move. His fight-or-flight instinct was beginning to kick in. He knew that any overt movement would certainly draw the attention of the figure on the broomstick, but staying in bed gave the upper hand to the figure. He had to do something.

Apparition and portkeys were out. Harry wouldn't learn apparition for a few more years and portkeys needed to be made ahead of time. He couldn't leave the room on foot either. His door was locked and the window remained blocked by the figure on the broomstick. He was effectively trapped. However, the figure didn't know that he knew that. Harry knew from years of dealing with Slytherin attacks and the Weasley twins' continual pranks that forewarned is forearmed.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked away the last vestiges of sleep. Now awake and alert, he turned over, masking the movement as a natural shift people do while sleeping, so he could see his alarm clock. 3:39 AM. 5 whole minutes had passed. What was the figure waiting for? Harry decided he didn't want to wait to find out. He mentally went through the incantations and wand movements for what he was about to do to prevent a mistake. He knew it was likely the only chance he would have should the figure wish to harm him.

Harry threw every fiber of his being into his next four words.

' _LUMOS MAXIMA! Alohomora! Expelliarmus!'_

Harry shouted as he jumped from bed while closing his eyes. He felt the unfamiliar wand land in his outstretched left hand as his disarming charm hit its target through the now open window. As he had hoped, the bright light form the overpowered lumos charm momentarily stunned the figure and allowed harry to open the window and disarm the figure before it could do anything.

' _Finite. Stupefy,'_ Harry spoke quietly as he pointed his wand out the window and cast an area-effect finite charm to remove the disillusionment from the figure. He wasn't sure if the figure was still armed, so he stunned it for good measure. The now-visible and unconscious figure sprawled out on the lawn unconscious wearing a fashionable yet practical green cloak and good with sturdy dragon-hide boots. Before Harry could get a good look, a shout rang out from down the hall.

'BOY! What in bloody hell is going on?! There better be a good explanation for this racket! I told you no nonsense this summer!'

'Shit, _' Harry thought to himself, 'dearest uncle Vernon is awake.'_


	2. Chapter 2: Lord Black

Disclaimer: JKR is Queen. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be so stressed about paying for my undergrad.

A/N: My first attempt at writing Fanfiction after reading several million words of it. Feel free to be as critical as you like. I can take criticism, in fact, I love it because it makes me better. 😊 My grammar and spelling is usually very good, but like every other person on this site, I'm human. I'll make mistakes. AU details and tropes are noted in summary and may change as I keep writing.

As this is my first time using this site to publish my work, I'm expecting some technical difficulties. Please bear with me as we begin this journey of what was, what is, and what could be:)

II. Lord Black

~\/~

Sirius stopped dead the moment he laid eyes on it from across the street. His childhood home, 12 Grimmauld Place, in all its malevolent glory. Externally, not much had changed in the 15 years since he had last visited. The pale-grey marble a striking contrast to the blackened-oak front door. Seriously, would it have killed his family to put a potted plant or something, anything, to make it less dreary? The cold stonework stirred many of his worst memories in him- being imprisoned and tortured by his parents, his only brother being turned against him, that infernal elf- it all came back to him in waves of pure emotion.

As he stepped to cross the street he paused. He could feel a resistance emanating from the residence. Of course, the infamous Black family wards. All ancient pure-blooded families had wards around their properties, but the Black Family's wards, powered by ancient ward-stones deep within the dwelling, were known to be the best. The wards would not yet be attuned to his presence because he was not of age when he was last at Grimmauld Place. He pulled out his wand.

'Defendere mihi Magicae Familia*,' Sirius incanted quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping muggles in the neighboring houses as the yellow tendril of magic leapt from his wand toward the door of the home. The tendril stopped midway across the street as a blue-gold dome rose up around the house. ' _Well, at least the wards still work,'_ Sirius thought to himself. He held his wand high as he walked up to the dome, a gap large enough to walk through appearing as he stepped under the magic. Once inside the wards he could feel the power of their protection. The air practically thrummed with ancient power. While the spell he used identified himself as a member of the family to the ward magic, he would need to complete the inheritance ritual before the wards would fully recognize him.

Sirius opened the door slowly with his wand at the ready. He had not been to the Black residence since his Hogwarts days and it had sat empty since his parents and Regulus died in the last war. With all of the magical artifacts housed in Grimmauld Place, it would be a miracle if he could get to the dining room without being attacked. Sure enough, as the door creaked inward a cloud of Cornish pixies flew up at him. Sirius cast a quick shield charm, the blue magic covering his body as the ugly little blighters clawed at the shield. He then immobilized them and levitated the lot out to the porch. Sirius lit his wand and stepped inside. The smell of mold and decay hit him like a muggle truck. The entryway was coated in almost a half-inch of grime.

'Kreacher! Where are you!?' Sirius shouted into the darkness. _Pop!_ Kreacher apparated into the entryway.

'Kreacher is here. What does the blood-traitor want?' came the patronizing reply. Sirius smiled stiffly; some things never changed.

'FILTH! SCUM! BLOOD-TRAITORS IN OUR MIDST!' echoed Walburga Black's high pitched cackle from down the hall. 'Great, they managed a portrait before she kicked the bucket,' he thought to himself, 'now I have her to deal with as well.'

'Silencio.' The portrait fell silent. 'Kreacher, what have you been doing all this time? Have the Elves of House Black, and the House of Black itself, fallen this far? Clean this up immediately!' Sirius knew the elf was unlikely to do anything simply because he asked, so he attacked his sense of family honor. It may have been a low blow, but it was necessary.

Kreacher scowled at Sirius, 'As the Blood-Traitoring master wishes.' He slowly, grudgingly started cleaning the area as Sirius steeled himself for what was ahead and stalked towards the staircase leading to Lord Black's study and his future.

Surprisingly, he was only attacked by three swarms of doxies before making it to the door of the study. He quickly dealt with them using a quick _Depulso_. As he pushed his way through the dimly lit corridor to the door. The door itself was rather unassuming when one considered all of the history that was made behind it. Just an antique oaken door carved in the Queen Anne style with a simple, weathered brass plate bearing the inscription, ' _Black,'_ above their coat of arms. The amount of deals, pacts, plots, alliances made and broken over the long and illustrious history of House Black- this was quite literally the proverbial room where _it_ happened. Thinking about that legacy gave Sirius pause as he held his hand over the brass doorknob. What he was about to do would've been unthinkable to him before Azkaban. He was about to take up the mantle he literally and figuratively spent his entire life trying to run from.

Sirius shrugged of the introspection. He pushed the door open and stepped into the study. Of course, following Black family tradition, calling the suite of rooms a 'study' was like calling the HMS Titanic a boat. The study complex actually consisted of an office, library, armory, storage room, and vault. The office was mostly intact thanks to powerful runic stasis charms anchored to ancient gemstones set within the desk and bookcases. The ancient desk itself was a masterpiece of woodwork. The polished mahogany surface still gleamed like new underneath the scattered paperwork despite living through both World Wars and hundreds of 'family disagreements.'

Sirius took his wand and started casting diagnostic charms on every single item in the front room. He was smart enough to know that his relatives were quite inventive when it came to cursed objects. Three cursed rings, a biting tea set, cursed stapler, and two fountain pens filled with acid later, the desk and worktable were cleared.

Sirius walked back to the vault to retrieve the ritual bowl and knife. He knew he needed to go through each object and make sure there weren't any nasty surprises, but he didn't have time at the moment and figured he'd be safe retrieving one specific item. Thankfully, the ritual bowl and knife were near the front of the vault next to a few sleeping family portraits and a very interesting copy of _Moste Potente Potions-_ the original, if memory served, including the potions redacted from the copy in Hogwarts's restricted section- as they were both used relatively often.

'Sirius Orion Black, I want you to know that you have my blessing and full support for what you are about to attempt.' Sirius startled, looking around the room for the source of the voice.

'Down here. A bit to the left.' His gaze settled on a portrait of a familiar wizard. 'Perfect. Hello Grandson, I had hoped we would have met again before I became confined to this frame, but alas fate and time can be cruel mistresses.'

'Lord Arcturus, it's good to see you,' Sirius said respectfully, still unsure of what to make of his now-deceased Grandfather's portrait.

'There's something you need to know about the family before you claim your birthright. The family motto- Toujours Pur- has meant different things to each Lord Black. Sadly, your parents and their siblings took it as a familial commitment to blood purity and wizarding tradition. These things are very important, but originally, Toujours Pur referred to our hearts and actions. Our motto is about always acting in accordance to your heart, not just your blood.' He paused to let this sink in. 'Siri, you have a great heart. Let it be your guide as you take up the mantle of Lord Black and you will restore Honor and Glory to House Black. I wish you the best of luck. Also, the family spellbook is in a secret compartment of the desk. Tap your wand three times on the center and say the motto in French.'

Sirius was dumbstruck. He had no idea there were other moderate members of House black, let alone one that would willingly help him.

Taking the bowl and knife to the desk, he prepared himself for what he was about to do with the solemn detachment of a neurosurgeon approaching a particularly difficult case. He opened the secret drawer in the desk and removed the handwritten book of family spells which held the correct ritual, thinking through every wand movement and incantation. He gently thumbed through the parchment, knowing that a mistake here could have very interesting consequences.

'Aguamenti,' Sirius incanted, filling the bowl partially with water. As he did this, the runes carved into the bowl began to glow a comforting golden color, recognizing his magic.

'Activate Magicae Familia,' he said as he pricked his thumb and added seven drops of blood to the water and smeared a circle of blood around the rim of the bowl. The mixture changed to a dark burgundy color as the blood was added. Suddenly, an ethereal raven, not unlike a Patronus, shot from the bowl, circled Sirius and came to land on the rim of the bowl. It eyed Sirius approvingly.

'I, Sirius Orion Black, hereby pledge my life and magic to service as Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House Black as is my birthright; I hereby claim all rights, privileges, duties, debts, and responsibilities as my own. As my will, so mote it be.' The Raven gave a trill of approval and affirmation. Sirius took that as a good sign. He reached into the mixture in the bowl and grabbed the House Rings. Two rings, both made of finest gold with the family crest engraved into the face. One of the Lord and one for his Heir. The only differences between them were size and gemstone. The Lord's ring was larger and had several diamonds tastefully studded within the Crest while heirs was slightly smaller and had dark sapphires. Sirius reverently picked up the ring and slipped it onto his right hand. The Raven incal let out another trill of approval and took flight, flying around Sirius and into the ring. As soon as he did this he felt the Family Magic as well as all of the ward schemes and enchantments for 12 Grimmauld place shift to his control.

'Integrum Magicae.'

A/N: * For the Family Magic Incantations, I decided to use Latin so I roughly translated the meaning I wanted into Latin. As I have yet to take a Latin course, I used Google translate (Please forgive me). Probably not the most elegant method, but effective nonetheless.

Defendere mihi Magicae Familia: Family Magic defend me

Integrum Magicae: Complete Magic

As always, please follow, favorite, and most importantly, review. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3: Finally

Disclaimer: JKR is Queen. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be so stressed about paying for my undergrad.

Updated 4/15/17: Minor spelling and clarity issues.

A/N: My first attempt at writing Fanfiction after reading several million words of it. Feel free to be as critical as you like. I can take criticism, in fact, I love it because it makes me better. 😊 My grammar and spelling is usually very good, but like every other person on this site, I'm human. I'll make mistakes. AU details and tropes are noted in summary and may change as I keep writing.

Review responses are at the bottom. Thanks to all who have reviewed. Keep 'em coming! :) I love hearing your thoughts.

As this is my first time using this site to publish my work, I'm expecting some technical difficulties. Please bear with me as we begin this journey of what was, what is, and what could be:)

III. Finally

~\/~

' _BOY! What in bloody hell is going on?! There better be a good explanation for this racket! I told you no nonsense this summer!'_

' _Shite,' Harry thought to himself, 'dearest uncle Vernon is awake.'_

Harry quickly ran from the window to his trunk. Pulling it out from under his bead, he whipped it open and grabbed his father's cloak.

'Wingardium Leviosa,' Harry spoke, pointing his wand at the cloak, making the 'o' vowel nice and long. The cloak quickly levitated through the window to cover the figure on the lawn, hiding the obviously out-of-place lump. For good measure, he stunned him again, put the figure in a body-bind hex, and conjured ropes to tie it. Just in time, as several lights were starting to blink on in the neighboring houses. Harry knew he was going to catch hell for this after Petunia's next bridge club meeting. He knew he would have to worry about that later; dear uncle Vernon was a much more immediate threat.

Harry quickly stowed all of his obviously magical items in trunk and shoved it under his bed. He took his wand and hid it in his waistband. He glanced out the window and saw the figure's broomstick still hovering in midair. He quickly Accio'd it and shoved it under his bed next to his trunk. Another glance around the room confirmed that there was nothing else too far out of place. Satisfied, he jumped back into bed to await Vernon.

Still sputtering angrily, Vernon fumbled with the locks on Harry's door. After what sounded like four attempts and seven new curse words, the door was unlocked. Now, Vernon could be described as small in several different capacities. His intellect, wit, senses of compassion, empathy, and kindness immediately come to mind. However, let no one say he was a small person. He practically dwarfed Harry. He was almost as wide around as Harry was tall. Harry's bedroom was not a large room, so as Vernon walked in, everything seemed that much more cramped and oppressive.

He leaned over Harry's small form, 'Boy,' he said in a false whisper. Any musician would've been impressed with the crescendo as he continued, starting at a whisper and ending somewhere between what is humanly possible and jet engine, 'What the ruddy hell was that!?'

'I-, I-, I-, I hadanightmareandwokeupscreaming,' Harry finally managed to stammer in response, staring down at the floor in shame. His hair parting to show the moonlight glinting off his scar. Vernon's eyes narrowed on the lone physical manifestation of Harry's abnormality.

'You what?' Vernon asked dryly.

Harry gulped, 'I had a nightmare and woke up screaming.' He paused, unsure of his uncle's response.

'Well see that it doesn't happen again. We need our sleep and the neighbors think you're odd enough as it is,' Vernon turned, yawned, and left without further admonishment, relocking the door behind him. As the final bolt clicked into place, he unconsciously let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. After Vernon promptly resumed snoring, he counted to 60 in his head before getting out of bed. He looked out the window and saw the quite street below him. Using his scanning technique, he determined the figure hadn't moved.

Harry pulled the figure's wand from where he stashed it when Vernon entered his room. Upon examination, the wand itself was fairly plain. He judged it to be roughly 13 inches in length and rather supple compared to his own. Its wood was a deep brown color, not quite as dark as Harry's own wand, but much darker than Hermione's. It was undecorated save a smooth octagonal grip resembling Hermione's viola bow in shape. The grip itself was carved with runes Harry did not recognize which gently tapered to a smooth, unmarked tip. He felt an odd tingle of familiarity war subtly against the undercurrent of malaise one felt from holding another wizard's wand. It didn't feel familiar enough to harness its full potential or cast complex magics with any real accuracy. The feeling was more a faint sense of something akin to trust or general goodwill than anything else. Interesting, in his experience, disarming someone usually gained the allegiance of that person's wand. There would have to be an extremely strong bond between the wizard and wand for it to still resist Harry. He didn't know exactly what the familiarity meant, but felt that the wand would never be used against him. Yet despite this, its materials and provenance remained a mystery to him. He placed the wand in his trunk for safekeeping until he integrated the mysterious broomstick-riding, window-stalking figure. Why would the wand both resist him and feel oddly familiar at the same time?

The entire situation made him uneasy. If the figure was here to harm him, why wait once it had found him? If Dumbledore sent the figure, why would it come at half four in the morning and why come under concealment charms? Shaking off the feeling of unease, he retrieved his own broom and went to go see the figure, exiting through the window and strengthening his occlumency defenses as he left.

Harry truly didn't know what to expect as he cautiously flew down to the dew-covered lawn beneath his bedroom window. He knew that there were some people who wanted him dead like the Malfoys and other pro-pureblood families, but didn't think they'd go as far as to send an assassin after him. He also doubted they'd bother to try to locate his muggle relatives in Surrey, much less know _how_ to do so. But caution was the better part of valor, especially when someone shows up at three in the morning at your window. He knew he needed to be prepared for anything.

'Accio Cloak!'

Harry summoned the invisibility cloak away from the figure, reveling a forest green form on the lawn.

Harry set about casting notice-me-not and muggle-repelling charms on himself and the figure, silently thanking how Hermione had begun to drill both him and Ron regularly in practical magics after the fiasco their first year, ensuring that they were well beyond the skill levels of their peers. He truly was thankful she had become borderline obsessed with more obscure defensive magic not covered in defense class in addition to general magical theory. Of course, he would never admit it to her face. Harry's hubris, a vice as old as time immemorial, stood firmly in the way of that despite the fact that Harry would give his life for Ron or Hermione in a heartbeat. He wished the Statute of Secrecy would allow him to use Muggle-Repelling charms on his relatives, but it wouldn't stretch quite that far. The Statute allowed him to use magic at home, but only if it didn't directly affect muggles or cause events that could only be explained by magic or an act of God. Thankfully, with his status as the last scion of a pureblood family, the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery had expired at age 12 for him. It definitely made his life in Surry more comfortable since he could do simple transfigurations and charms without fear of reprisal, unlike many of his muggle-raised counterparts. Of course, while he wasn't allowed to use magic directly on his relatives, Harry figured that they didn't need to know that.

Harry cautiously approached the figure from behind. Despite having tied it up and rendered it unconscious, he knew that the figure was competent enough to use the disillusionment charm and to fly with any level of confidence in a muggle area. This suggested advanced training in defense and charms beyond that of a Hogwarts student. Harry was out of his depth. The figure began to stir slowly, the stunner was beginning to wear off. This suggested that the person was either very strong or had a form of armor beneath the deep green robes.

Harry stopped and ran his eyes over the still bound and unmoving figure. He, Harry knew instantly from the slender hips and broad shoulders that the figure was male, looked rather funny trussed up like a Christmas goose. His arms and legs were bound together with ropes as he lay face down upon the grass. His midweight traveling cloak fell draped away from his shoulders revealing matching robes beneath the cloak. The robes themselves were obviously of higher quality than one could find at Madam Malkin's, who catered primarily to the growing wizards and witches of Hogwarts. The forest green color seemed to shimmer in the light from the partial moon, almost blending into the darkened lawn of No. 4 privet drive. The distinctive shimmer identified the robes as magical. He suspected a moderate camouflage charm was woven into the fabric to allow the user to better blend into their environment. Harry noted that they were cut closer to the torso than the everyday robes most people wore yet allowed greater freedom of movement than his own school robes. These were dueling robes.

Careful to keep his wand pointed at the figure yet out of his immediate reach, Harry pulled the cowl of the cloak back to reveal the face of Sirius Black. Sirius was conscious. His dark chestnut eyes glared up at Harry's own green eyes in a mixture of frustration, relief, pride, curiosity, a combination Harry had never seen before. Growing up in with the Dursleys had taught Harry how to read emotions on people's faces. He learned this skill early as it was useful in avoiding the tantrums Dudley was prone to fall into at the slightest sign of resistance from his parents. This experience, while not pleasant, did pay dividends. Yet, in all of his experience, he had never seen the sheer range of emotion on the face of Sirius Black as he lay trussed up like a Christmas Goose on the lawn.

Harry realized that he was still standing over his Godfather. He lowered his wand slightly, but kept it in his hand.

'S-, Sirius? What are you doing here?' Harry saw his Godfather's lips moving but no sound escaped his lips. 'Oh, right. Sorry about that.' Harry cast the countercharm to the silencing charm and waited for the inevitable explosion.

'Harry Bloody Potter, indeed! No wonder you're the Boy-Who-Lived, no one can ruddy sneak up on you!' Sirius shouted to Harry from the ground. While his tone was admonishing, his face betrayed the respect and admiration Sirius held for Harry. Harry smiled. 'What a sight for sore eyes. Now, how about getting me untied so we can talk?'

Harry, now beaming, began casting countercharms and undoing the spellwork that bound Sirius. Rubbing the circulation back into his hands, Sirius let out a sigh of relief as his bonds were undone and he was able to stand up. It certainly felt good to move his limbs again. He was definitely surprised by Harry's apparent skill in defensive magic. Sirius knew he was a bit rusty from a 12-year stay in Hotel Azkaban, but he was a veteran Hitwizard, trained by Mad-Eye Moody himself, with dozens of successful missions and several high-profile kills under his belt for Merlin's sake! Still, despite his training, he was bested by a 14-year-old. Despite the embarrassment, knowing that Harry knew one end of his wand from the other would certainly help him sleep better at night.

The second Sirius was fully upright, he was enveloped by the teenager's arms in a tight hug. Sirius was taken aback. He was prepared for a variety of reactions to his visit tonight, but emotionally-charged physical touch was not one of them. The Black Family Sirius had grown up in wasn't exactly filled with hugs and kisses. He felt himself stiffen automatically under the contact. He'd have to work on that.

'I'm so glad you came. I've heard nothing from anyone other than Hermione and Ron since school ended and the Dursleys have been watching Hedwig like hawks. I'm barely allowed to let her fly outside.' The implications of Harry's words slowly sunk in. After nearly being killed yet again, Harry had been almost completely isolated from anyone and everyone who cared about him. The sheer injustice of the situation racked Sirius to his core. Dumbledore and the Ministry had some serious explaining to do. But that could wait. Sirius had more pressing matters to cover at 4:17AM.

'Harry, I'm sure you have a ton of questions, but while I promise I will explain everything in time, I need you to answer one question immediately. Do you trust me enough to leave this place with me?' Sirius's eyes bored into Harry's as he asked the question. The sheer intensity of the glaze told Harry just how serious the question was intended. 'I should have you back by tomorrow evening. Will there be any problems with the Dursleys?'

'No, I'll leave a note and they'll be fine,' Harry lied. He knew that while they'd be glad to be rid of him, the second he came back they'd find some reason to punish him. But to him, time with Sirius was worth any punishment the Dursleys could dish out. Finally, he was leaving No. 4 Privet Drive.

Review Responses:

All Reviewers: Thank you for taking the time to jot down your thoughts. I love hearing from you guys!

SB- Potterheard: Thanks!

ProjectJay: Yeah, I might have milked that a bit. :) Oh well, their prospects will improve.

Reena123: Thanks! Updates will continue as I have time.

Tsukiyomi Sora: Glad you like the story! Update speed varies with the amount of free time I get each week.

FYI: I'm aware of the cannon laws affecting underage magic use. That's one of the departures from canon I will make. I noted it in the original Author's Note and have labeled the entire story AU. Isn't the point of Fanfiction to change canon elements we didn't like and explore new possibilities?


	4. 12 Grimmauld Place

Disclaimer: JKR is not me and I am not JKR. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be so stressed about paying for my undergrad!

A/N: My first attempt at writing Fanfiction after reading several million words of it. Feel free to be as critical as you like. I can take criticism, in fact, I love it because it makes me better. 😊 My grammar and spelling is usually very good, but like every other person on this site, I'm human. I'll make mistakes. AU details and tropes are noted in summary and may change as I keep writing.

Ugh, writing this chapter was like pulling teeth for me. I couldn't find time, etc. *Inserts excuse for not updating* At any rate, I truly am sorry that it took me this long to update. I've recently had a bit more time at my disposal, so you can expect updates to be a bit more forthcoming. In fact, I already have much of the next chapter written and the next 3-4 mentally outlined.

Review responses are at the bottom. Thanks to all who have reviewed. Keep 'em coming! :) I love hearing your thoughts. Anyone know a good, reliable beta-reader?

As this is my first time using this site to publish my work, I'm expecting some technical difficulties. Please bear with me as we begin this journey of what was, what is, and what could be:)

IV. 12 Grimmauld Place

~\/~

' _No, I'll leave a note and they'll be fine,' Harry lied. He knew that while they'd be glad to be rid of him, the second he came back they'd find some reason to punish him. Finally, he was leaving No. 4 Privet Drive._

'Perfect. Take down the enchantments you put up and let's go. Oh, and I'll take my wand back now,' Sirius said rather solemnly. Harry grinned with guilt as he Accio'd Sirius's wand and his own traveling cloak from his bedroom. Sirius's wand let out a torrent of dark purple sparks as it returned to its owner's hand.

'Sorry, new wand. She belonged to an ancestor of mine and is bit excited to finally be in use again. I'm using her because I can't exactly go ask Ollivander for a new one at the moment. I found her in the manor's vaults. I think even when I get another one of Ollivander's creations I'll keep carrying her as well. There's no sense in not having a backup, Constant Vigilance and whatnot,' Sirius explained.

'Constant Vigilance?' Harry prompted.

'Oh, it was the life motto of my training instructor back when I was a Hitwizard. Alastor Moody, an excellent teacher and mentor for that line of work, but a bit lacking in soft skills. At any rate, he always reminded us to never let down our guard and to be ready for absolutely anything. Thankfully, he will never find out about your little ambush just now,' Sirius said with an expectant glance at Harry.

'What ambush?' Harry asked with a conspiratorial smile, the moonlight glinting off his teeth.

'Exactly,' Sirius replied, returning the smile. Seeing Harry smile both brightened his day and reminded him of just how much he missed those 12 damned years in Azkaban. Once his name was cleared, he would demand answers.

'Hold on,' Sirius warned as he grabbed Harry's arm and twisted on his heel.

Harry had been taken by side-along apparition before, but he had never quite become used to the feeling of being sucked through a milk straw as magic itself transported him across space. He had also failed to fully master landing on his feet when arriving at the destination. Harry lost his balance and tripped over the troll foot umbrella stand, falling to the floor in a heap of motheaten fabric, wood, and teenage wizard. As if sensing their arrival, the heavy brass sconces lining the entryway lit themselves, casting a warm glow across the darkened oak paneling.

Sirius helped Harry to his feet and took his bag, setting it neatly against the wall. After a quick wave of his wand, the entry was back to normal. As he looked around, he was amazed at the lack of dust, grime, and cursed items. It appeared Kreacher had finally done his due diligence and was beginning to return 12 Grimmauld place to its original condition.

'Kreacher!' Sirius summoned.

'Master called Kreacher? Is the blood-traitor needing something? Kreacher exists to serve,' the ancient elf replied patronizingly as he prostrated himself in the hallway in front of Sirius.

'That would be Lord Black to you, Kreacher,' Sirius reminded sardonically. 'How is the cleaning progressing? What rooms are fit for guests?' Sirius asked the elf.

'The Study, Master Suite, kitchen and second floor are complete. The rest of the upper levels will be completed by afternoon tea tomorrow. Kreacher hasn't touched the library, catacombs, or lower levels yet. The old Master's blood seals are still active on the entrances to the catacombs and library.'

'Good. Bring Harry's bag to my bedroom,' Sirius replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 'Harry and I will sleep in this morning. Plan a lunch for two at noon. After that we can take a look at the library door.' Sirius walked down the hall, turned, and beckoned to Harry, 'Let's go, Pup, big day tomorrow. Lots to chat about.'

'Ok, sounds good.' Harry, a bit taken aback at being called Pup, followed Sirius down the hallway and up the stairs to the second level. The adrenaline from the fight and sudden departure from Surry was beginning to wear off for the pair and both were beginning to feel it. Harry soon lost count of the number of doors they had passed. The pair eventually stopped at a plain, solid black door. Sirius pushed the door open to reveal an opulent sitting room decked out in silver and green trimmings and yet another hallway stretching.

'Ugh, only in my family. This simply will not do,' Sirius muttered as he took out his wand and preformed a quick color charm which changed the silver and green to an inviting, homey maroon and gold. Sirius smiled as he turned to Harry, 'Better?'

'Loads,' Harry replied as he opened his mouth in a wide yawn.

'Oh, you'll need a bed,' Sirius yawned as he took his wand, glanced about the room, and transfigured a wingback chair into a simply decorated bed. 'This should work for tonight, at least. If you wake up before me, do not leave this set of rooms. I do not know how safe the rest of the house is. I'd like to trust Kreacher, but he lost that long ago. The bathroom is through that door,' Sirius instructed, pointing to a nondescript door at the rear of the room as he frowned in recollection. 'I still have yet to clear the house of pests and cursed objects. My family was a bit more enthralled by the darker aspects of magic than I would have preferred, to say the least. More on that tomorrow. I will be two doors down on the left. I'll leave the door open, so if you need anything at all don't hesitate to come get me.' Sirius smiled warmly at Harry as he took his leave.

Harry fell onto the bed and into the deep, comforting clutches of sleep. For once, no dreams visited his mind.

Harry awoke and was initially confused by his new surroundings. Suddenly, everything from the previous twelve hours returned in flashes of vivid memory. Spellwork. Sirius. Escape. Release. Comfort. He sat up in bed, blinked the sleep from his eyes, found his glasses, and glanced around at the opulent room. Antiquated, expensive Victorian furnishings with maroon and gold trimmings were set against richly patterned carpets and deeply colored red walls. One wall was completely covered with dark brown floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stacked high with books bound in leather. Harry thought that Hermione would have a field day over there. Opposite the wall of books, broad gray stones covering the wall were broken by a gargantuan fireplace and two small windows. A small fire, dwarfed by the size of the whole fireplace, was crackling in the grate to ward off the morning chill. A wide green vase sat on the mantle, filled with blue Floo powder just like at the Burrow. Two matching armchairs sat facing the fire. A gentle light poured in from the magical windows set into the stone. Harry strongly suspected it was a charm and not the actual outdoors as it seemed far too warm and sunny for anywhere in the United Kingdom. To Harry, the room was simply magical.

Harry climbed out of bed and begun his morning yoga routine. One thing Remus had emphasized during his tenure as defense professor was physical fitness. Why rely solely on fallible shields when simply stepping out of the path of an incoming spell was just as effective? As such, he had worked with his students on physical conditioning in addition to their knowledge of magical creatures. Most students hated the grueling sessions, but after fighting Quirrilmort, Tom Riddle, and a bloody basilisk, Harry was more than a casual fan of simply getting out of danger's way. To create his routine, Harry

combined parts of a workout he found in an Auror manual McGonagall had loaned him after he expressed interest in following in his father's footsteps with yoga and stretching.

His brief workout completed, Harry took his bag and stepped into the bathroom.

'Oh my, aren't you a delicious little crumpet! Not bad on the eyes!' A high-pitched, singsong female voice rang out into the bathroom. Harry jumped, drew his wand, and looked about for the source of the sound as it continued, 'Ooh, and feisty too! A bit on the skinny side, but oh well, can't have _everything_! Oh, and you must know that those shorts do not go with that shirt and we simply _need_ to do something about that hair. Frankly, it's an abomination, but don't you worry, I'll get you sorted out!'

'Who's there?'

'Well, I could ask you the same question. You're obviously not a Black. No Blacks have had green eyes in seven generations. While I have been called many things over the years, this Lord Black calls me Ada. I have served as the Lord Black's enchanted mirror for over 300 years. And you are?'

'Harry Potter,' Harry replied, turning to face Ada. Harry could see the figure of a young woman standing next to him as he looked into the mirror. _'What is it with wizards and creepy spectral mirrors, anyway?'_ he thought to himself as he recalled the Mirror of Erised.

'I'm sorry, I meant to ask your full name and house,' The mirror prompted politely.

'Harry James Potter, Gryffindor,' Harry replied with pride.

'A Gryffindor? How interesting. At any rate, I meant your family name and lineage.' Ada replied.

'Umm… Harry James Potter, son of James and Lilly Potter.'

'Well, well, a scion of House Potter. This is a first. What you seek is behind the curtain,' Ada concluded flirtatiously as her image faded from view and left Harry standing alone.

Harry stepped past the curtain and into the shower. The Dursleys always limited him to three minutes in the shower and turned off the hot water valve during the time he was using the bathroom. While he used his magic to make showering at the Dursley's bearable, a long, hot shower was a luxury Harry learned not to take for granted. With no such limits here, Harry took his time, enjoying the feeling of the hot water as it relaxed his muscles and eased the tension from his brow.

Harry stepped out of the shower into the foggy bathroom and rapidly walked past the mirror, thankfully without any comments from Ada about the young wizard clad only in a towel. Back at his bed, Harry quickly dressed in a nondescript set of black work robes. He tucked his wand into his belt at the small of his back and rolled up his sleeves.

'How did you sleep? I'm afraid my transfiguration skills never were quite as good as your fathers,' Sirius greeted from the hallway.

'I slept wonderfully,' Harry replied with a grin. Seeing Sirius leaned against the corner of the hallway so casually made him so happy. It was a long way from where Harry first found him.

'Good to hear. I hope Ada didn't give you too much trouble,' Sirius smirked as Harry's face reddened.

'Anyway, Kreacher is nearly done with lunch. Let's head down to the dining room and chat there.'

Harry followed Sirius down the eerie hallway to a table the dining room where the pair sat down. A blue curtain of crackling magical energy separated the table and entrance to the kitchen from the rest of the room. Peering through the translucent wall, Harry could see why the curtain was in place. Dust and decay littered the walls and floor of the cordoned off segment. Motheaten curtains covered what could be windows while something slammed a cabinet door shut on the ornate end table. Periodically, the curtain would lash out towards something with a blue-gold tendril of energy to zap a pixie or doxy that flew too close. Harry's confusion and curiosity was portrayed on his face.

Seeing Harry's reaction to the state of the dining room, Sirius spoke up.

'When you take a home with as much pent up magical energy and as many dark artifacts and let it sit for a decade without regular cleaning, all of that pent-up energy begins to attract _things_. Preservation and constant cleaning charms wear out after a few years and eventually the rune scheme has to shuts\ off parts of the house's magic to focus on maintaining the wards and external barriers. This allows magical pests like Doxies, Pixies, and Gnomes. Lesser dark creatures like Boggarts, et cetera. You name it and there's probably at least one of it in this house.' Sirius leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, 'And all of it could have been prevented if Kreacher had simply done his duty and kept the place clean. Speak of the devil, Kreacher!?'

Kreacher popped into existence with a visible sigh. 'Yes, Master Black?'

'When will brunch be ready?' Sirius questioned.

'It is nearly ready. What would you both like to drink?' the grumpy elf asked with patronizing politeness. Harry could tell that Kreacher was an expert at pushing each and every one of Sirius's buttons.

'I'll take a glass of water,' responded Harry.

'The same,' Sirius echoed.

'Very well.' Kreacher vanished with a crack.

'Going back to the magical decay, I don't know how far your muggle scientific training has progressed, but it's a bit like their second law of thermodynamics and principal of entropy.' Sensing Harry's confusion he continued, 'I'm not an expert by any stretch of imagination, but in essence it means that everything will naturally progress from order to disorder unless acted upon or maintained by an outside force. One of the girls I dated for a few years loved science so much she pursued a rather intense chemistry independent study with McGonagall.' Sirius smiled sadly at the memory before he continued. 'We decided to keep dating after Hogwarts, but she was killed a few months after the war broke out. It was a major blow not only to me, but to the entire Order. She was one of our best spell crafters and had this infectious grin.' He let the phrase trail off, eyes glistening with words unsaid, memories unshared. Kreacher chose that exact moment to apparate into the room with a crack.

'Food is served.' Kreacher snapped his fingers and their meals appeared on the table. In front of Harry, a delicious full English breakfast appeared complete with orange juice and water. However, in front of Sirius sat a dented, silver dog dish filled with lumpy, gray porridge. Sirius began to chuckle.

'Kreacher,' Sirius called calmly, 'Very funny, now I _order_ you to bring me my actual breakfast.' Without a sound, another full English materialized in front of Sirius.

Sirius leveled his gaze at Harry as he cut into his kippers, 'Sadly, because Kreacher is still enthralled with my Mother and her ideas about blood purity and fascination with dark magic, I need to formally order him as Lord Black to do some things. My parents were very disappointed in my sorting, in fact, they hated me. This, of course, transferred to Kreacher. Until me, there had never been a member of House Black sorted into Gryffindor. My parents hated that I broke the Black family tradition: get sorted into Slytherin, make deep friendships with the other scions of Noble houses, find a suitable wife from an old family with a large estate or, better yet, a proximity to political power, get married, produce an heir, and live holed up in a large estate, only leaving for social functions, Wizengamot duties, and business trips while indoctrinating my children with the same set of beliefs and traditions as the past 50 generations. But I had the audacity to dream; the audacity to hope and break free. They hated me because I had that wonderful, insolent, rebellious _audacity_ to want more than a picture-perfect, skin-deep marriage and a life filled with counterproductive political posturing and a devotion to dark magic.'

'Wow. I had no idea. I'm speechless.' Harry responded awkwardly as he set his fork down.

'That's ok, I didn't mean to unload on you. Most people who don't grow up in an old family have no idea what really happens and most that do either learn to love the lifestyle, go along with it because it's what's expected, or try to leave with varying degrees of success. I was luckier than most. Your parents, Remus, and the woman I told you about earlier were invaluable.' Sirius continued, finishing off his breakfast while awaiting Harry's response.

'Yeah, I'll bet. Huh, that really explains Malfoy, doesn't it?' Thought Harry aloud as he polished off his eggs and moved on to his sausage.

'Probably, his family was one of the Black's biggest allies until recently. Narcissa is actually my cousin as well.'

'Sirius, can I ask you a question?' Harry asked, as he finished his meal and crossed his utensils over his plate.

'You just did,' he replied with a chuckle.

'You know what I mean,' Harry said as he rolled his eyes.

'Yes, always remember that you can ask me anything.' Sirius said with a smile.

'What was her name?' Harry asked tentatively.

'Marlene McKinnon. She was a muggleborn like your mother and one of her closest friends, despite not being in Gryffindor. She was a Hufflepuff.' He gave one final sigh before changing the subject. Leaning forward in his chair so his elbows rested on the top of the table he began, 'Anyway, I didn't launch a kidnapping attempt to talk to you about my previous love life or to vent to you about my terrible parents. I can't imagine how hard the events of this past year have been on you. How have you been holding up?'

'Very good,' Harry replied, a bit too quickly, his eyes darting to the plate in front of him. 'Of course, I'm sure I'm still recovering from the dementor attack during full moon when you were captured, but I can't complain.' Harry finished cautiously as his eyes darted away from Sirius's gaze.

'Bullshit,' Sirius said calmly, 'someone who is "doing well" doesn't willingly leave their home in the middle of the night at the drop of a hat with someone they've met twice beforehand. A teenager who's "doing well" doesn't have the situational awareness and battle skills of a seasoned veteran.' Harry flinched with guilt at each assertion while the curtain of energy behind him crackled in response to Sirius's righteous anger. 'A happy and healthy teenager doesn't have a go bag next to their bed at all times. Most importantly, a child who is loved does not have industrial grade locks on their windows and doors. I know what it's like to live in a place like that. It's barely living.' Sirius finished, his voice barely a whisper. He paused, then continued, his voice firm and unwavering, 'Look at me in the eyes. No one. Should have to live like that. Ever. There's absolutely no reason to tolerate that level of hatred and apathy. Now, I know we only spoke briefly about it as school ended and neither of us has had a great deal of time to think about its implications, but my offer still stands. Grimmauld Place, and myself, are completely open to you, should you choose to live here.'

Harry's heart leapt, until he remembered Dumbledore's requirement that he remain in Surry. 'But Dumbledore said-'

'Harry James Potter,' Sirius interrupted, with a hint of sternness in his voice for the first time, 'listen very carefully to my next few words. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is a force for good and an asset to our side, but he is not perfect, he is not infallible, and he does not always do what is best for other individuals. He confuses what he thinks may bring about the best endgame with what is best for the individual in the long term. He is also not above a subtle compulsion charm to get what he wants.' Sirius said bitterly before continuing, 'above all, be _cautious_ when you deal with him.'

'I know, and I want to live here, but Dumbledore said there was no other option,' Harry argued back. Tumultuous emotions flowed through Harry. A good portion of him knew that Sirius was right, and an even larger part of him wanted to simply leave Privet Drive and never look back, yet he still had parts of him which though that Dumbledore must have some reason to keep him at Privet Drive. 'Sirius, Dumbledore must have some reason for keeping me in Surry.'

'There's always another option! There's absolutely no reason good enough to leave a child unloved in an abusive and neglectful home. None at all. You could've been raised at Hogwarts by the best teachers in Britain, loved, cared for, and protected by the oldest magical castle in Britain. You could've been raised by another Wizarding family with children your age, giving you a true family. Or better yet, Dumbledore could have actually obeyed your parent's final wishes and left you with your godfather,' Sirius finished with a huff.

'Sirius, I know my parents intended for me to grow up with you, but did Dumbledore know that? Did they have an actual will?'

'Yes, they did. So the mighty Dumbledore didn't share that bit of information with you?' Sirius asked with a sad smile, his tone free of malice. 'Why am I not surprised?'

'Sirius, I don't understand. Was it legally binding?' Harry questioned.

'Yes, it was. We all had legally binding Wills at that point in time. We were being attacked left and right. It was a necessary precaution. I know for a fact that your parents had at least three copies made of their will. One was given to Dumbledore as leader of the Order, one was kept in a magical trunk your parents kept with them, and one was stored in the Potter vaults in Gringotts.'

'You mean Dumbledore had the will in his possession the entire time?' Harry replied, now fuming.

'Yes! He had it in his possession, knew and understood its implications, and failed to act on James and Lilly's instructions. He probably felt that his "solution" was best, damn what your actual parents thought,' Sirius replied, his voice full of acid and vitriol. 'Can you tell why he's not my favorite wizard in the world?'

'Definitely, but what exactly did their will say?'

'I've told you the gist of it, but we'll have to make a field trip to see the Will itself as my memory is a bit rusty after over a decade. I bet Remus would be up for a bit of mischief.' Sirius said thoughtfully. After a pause, he continued, proudly bearing that infectious grin, 'We need to get into Gringotts, incognito. Are you up for a little adventure tomorrow afternoon?'

'Hell yes,' replied Harry with a smile.

Chapter 3 Reviews:

To All: Thank you for your time and thoughts. Sadly, I will not be responding to every single reviewer so that I keep each chapter focused on the story. Also, while future pairings are undecided and you're welcome to comment your thoughts to your heart's content, I generally don't let readers influence my decisions. :)

Millie: Thanks for your thoughts. You're right, I've read several "Sirius-Adopts-Harry" fanfics myself and though I'm trying to be original, there will be some overlap. I'll talk more about Dumbledor's Order of the Flaming Turkey in coming chapters. You bring up good points about making the room more comfortable, leaving the home, etc. I started to hint at Harry's reasons in this chapter, but will state it a bit more explicitly in the next few chapters.


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